


Tony Stark and the Boy with the Artificial Arm

by tisfan



Series: Imagine Tony and Bucky 2016/2017 [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Hogwarts First Year, M/M, Meddling Kids, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9414932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Hogwarts AU where Tony is the first ever 10 year old to get accepted and he gets sorted into Slytherin. Imagine 2 years later when The other Avengers arrives and finds out Tony is the number one student, That he have skipped a few years and is now a 4th year instead of a 2nd year student and the most mysterious of all the people there. Bucky of course sets out to unravel this mysteriousness surrounding the young genius. Bonus if Tony revolutionise magic my amplifying his with the arc reactor.





	

 

“But Mama,” Tony complained, staring at the red train with the gold lettering, marked Hogwarts Express. “I don’t want to go to _another_ boarding school. Can’t you just teach me at home?” Bad enough that this… curse… whatever it was… had driven his mother all the way back to Europe and to take Tony with her, but he didn’t want to be left at this… English boarding school. He’d heard too many stories as it was. None of them worked out well for Americans. 

“Antonio Edaordo,” Maria Stark said, tugging at her collar. Tony knew he was in trouble when his mama switched all the way back to her native Italian. “<We have had this discussion already and I am not having a tenth time in the half hour before you must be on your train. Now, kiss me goodbye and go take your seat. Remember your letter.>” 

Tony tapped his vest pocket. “I have it,” he said, stubbornly sticking to English, his American accent drawing attention. He could speak many languages, and his Italian-accented English was spot on, but something about the New York drawl annoyed his mother, so he kept to it. He wasn’t going to get what he wanted, so he may as well score some points. Later, she’d feel guilty about fighting and she’d send him a really good care package. 

Someone brushed by him, hard, and muttered “filthy muggle,” whatever _that_ meant. 

“<Everything will be fine, bambino,>” Maria said, presenting her lightly powdered and perfumed cheek for Tony’s kiss. “<I’ll send you an owl every day.>” Tony dutifully kissed his mom, hugged her, and tried not to cry. 

Tony pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the faint vibrations of his arc-reactor under his thick shirt -- he was relieved at one thing, and that was that the class robes he was required to wear (which looked extremely stupid, especially with the pointy-hat, like they were playing Halloween every day) at least would cover up the blue glow of the device that kept him alive. Other kids hadn’t reacted favorably to the device in the No-Mag world, much less in a world where technology was apparently foreign. 

The train was crowded, full of kids and their hoity toity British accents. Tony wondered if he should pull his Liverpool out of the closet and brush it off, so to speak. He had a knack for languages and accents; he could probably pretend for most of the year, but decided not to. He was one-hundred percent New York, they could deal. 

He found a car with three other boys in it, two older kids and another freshman (first year, whatever.). The older boys were strangely alike, for all their differences. One wore a green cloak over his shoulders and had long hair and a particularly devilish smile. The other was blonde, enormous, and his cloak was red. His grin was so wide that Tony felt he was looking at a reincarnated golden retriever, rather than a thirteen-year-old boy. 

“WELL MET!” The blonde boomed, then grinned as everyone swiveled to look at him. “I am Thor Odinson, and this is my brother, Loki. Join us, friend!” 

“Tony,” Tony offered. He glanced at the other boy, with dark skin and a particularly long nose. “And you are?” 

“James Rhodes,” the boy said. He looked out the window again. 

“Wait, Tony?” Loki said, looking up from the book he’d been carrying in his lap. “Tony Stark? From America? I’ve heard about you, special program and everything. Got in two years early. You’re nine? You’re sure to be in my house. It’s a place for men with more brains than brawn. And a healthy dose of ambition, to be sure. Let me see your wand.” 

Tony blinked. Oh, right. This was not an invitation to play doctor, as he’d done with Sunset Bain back at home. Wand. Yes. He had one of those. He reached into the black robe’s pockets and pulled it out. 

“Oh, that’s… beautiful,” Loki said, leaning forward with interest. “What’s it made from? I’ve never seen one like it. Are all American wands metal?” 

Tony looked at his wand; he hadn’t seen any others aside from his mother’s the day after he’d first exhibited magical talent. He hadn’t known anything about it up until that point. His mother’s was delicate, silver and slender. “It might be a Carbonell thing. My mother’s Italian.” His wand was a titanium alloy, the core was a very rare element called vibranium. It had glowed blue the instant Tony’d put his hand on it. 

Loki took his own wand from beneath his robes; an elaborate, and perhaps overly long carved stick of curled and carved ashwood. “Ash and frost giant hair,” he said, proudly. “Fifteen inches. Extremely whippy.” 

 ****Thor pulled his out, as well, a very thick rod, wrapped in leather, with gold filigree up the side. “Ironwood and sea serpent spine. I call it Mjolnir.”

“Wands don’t have names, stupid,” another boy said, leaning in the door. “Come on, Loki, let’s ditch this loser and get out of here.” 

Thor scowled. “No one here cares for your opinion, Obadiah Stane,” he said in such a tone that it seemed that it absolutely must be the truth. 

“Go on, Obie,” Loki said, waving one of his slender hands dismissively. “I’ll see you at the Feast.” Loki waited until the stock boy wandered off again. “Don’t mind Obie, he’s in my House, but we’re _not_ friends. Unlike certain members of the wizarding community, I actually think that cross-house friendships are worth nurturing. You never know when you’re going to need a brave ally to stand between you and oncoming dragons, right brother?” 

Thor beamed like he was Scooby-Doo and had just been given a snack. 

* * *

 

The Sorting Hat debated; really, for much longer than Tony thought was strictly necessary, as he sat on a stool in front of the whole school and listened to the hat debate his entire personality. 

“Brave,” the hat said in a tiny voice that whispered in his head. “So brave, to cross the ocean, on the run from your No-Mag father, and --” 

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Tony thought back, furiously. His mother, crying into her handkerchief while they were on the boat, carefully using her compact to cover up her black eye and wearing long sleeves to hide the marks of Howard’s belt across her shoulders. 

“And so very smart, too,” the hat went right along. “And a master, so young, at magical devices. Only the greatest wizards can --” 

“Necessary to live,” Tony thought, sighing. The arc-reactor had won him no friends whatsoever, and if it wasn’t utterly crucial to his survival, he would have ripped it out already. It hurt in his chest, all the time, made breathing difficult. 

“And so helpful,” the hat continued. “There’s a real thirst for friends, for acceptance --” 

Tony was tapping his fingers absently over the wall of the arc-reactor, feeling the thrumming vibrations under his sternum. “Can we just move on with this? I have a world to rule,” Tony thought, quoting one of his father’s favorite sarcastic phrases. 

“ _Slytherin_!” the hat bellowed. 

Which was how he found himself sitting next to Loki at dinner and being glowered at by Obadiah Stane, who seemed to want that coveted position for himself. Great. First day of school and he already had an arch enemy. 

* * *

 

The note sent him off to the hospital wing where he met and was fussed over by a grey-haired witch named Madam Pomfrey. She made him take off his shirt and examined the artifact in his chest -- the arc-reactor -- closely. She made notes on a pad that floated around behind her, the quill doing all the writing on its own. Tony wondered where he could get one of those, he was tired of ink on his fingers already. What was it with this place that no one knew how to use a ball-point? 

“This is advanced spellwork, young man,” she said, poking at the surface with her wand. 

Tony jerked back from her, blocking her wand with his arm. He didn’t like people to touch it. “Thank you,” he said. “It’s quite functional. I’ll let you know if that changes.” 

“You’ll want to speak with Professor Slughorn,” she said, “about the potion you need. Professor Sprout has gotten in a special order of bloodpods and everblooming dandelions to make sure your medical needs are met during your time at Hogwarts.” 

Yay. Tony still had half a vial of the revolting chlorophyll concoction he had to drink regularly; his mother had made it; it kept the arc-reactor that powered his heart from killing him due to heavy metal poisoning. Tony continued to work the idea in his head, how to improve the reactor so it wouldn’t kill him in the process of keeping himself alive. 

“Poppy!” a sharp woman’s voice called out. Tony peeked around the curtains to see a very stern woman in a tartan robe leading a boy into the room. The boy had ragged cut brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. The boy was gripping at his shoulder as if it hurt. 

“Yes, Headmistress?” Madam Pomfrey asked, “What… oh. Did you have a good summer, Mister Barnes? Perhaps it was too much to expect you to stay out of trouble for the whole first day. What now?” 

The boy, Barnes, pushed his black robes down his arm and Tony wasn’t able to conceal his gasp. The boy had a metal arm, gleaming silver. “Picked up a curse meant for someone else,” the boy said. “New kid, Steve Rogers. Someone tried to hit him with a Knockback Jinx.” 

“Don’t those children learn?” Madam Pomfrey asked, obviously not expecting anyone to answer. 

“Don’t know,” the boy said. “But I wasn’t gonna let the new boy eat that. He’s so skinny a good jinx’ll knock a year’s growth off him.” 

Madam Pomfrey tapped the boy’s arm with her wand a few times, which made the boy wince and grind his teeth together, before a dark swirl of smoke came out from under the plates that shifted and clicked every time he moved. The smoke grew a pair of eyes, glaring, and Tony shrank back against the bed. 

The headmistress waved her wand and the smoke dissipated. “Both Misters Stane and Killian have detention, Poppy,” she said. “I will send you to them tomorrow. Have them do something… very smelly, I think.” 

“You should have some chocolate, before you go, Mister Barnes,” Madam Pomfrey said. "Go sit there with Mister Stark while I get you some.” 

Barnes grinned and hopped up onto the cot next to Tony. “Hey, first year,” he said. “That’s a cool thing you got there.” He jerked his chin at Tony’s chest, and Tony blushed, mortified and frightened, grabbing for his robes. 

“Naw, don’t worry,” the boy said. “I know what it’s like. M’ dad made this for me, after my real arm got bit off by a hydra. It holds bad magic, so I’m in here all th’ time. Pommy old Pomphrey thinks of me as a troublemaker, but really, the hexes and jinxes don’t hurt me, I may as well take ‘em instead of the others, right?” 

Tony let the robe fall down; Barnes had seen it already. “Your dad does good work,” he said, clinically. “It’s fully articulated? And has wards on it against jinxes? That’s a good spell, I’d like to learn that.” 

“I’m Bucky, by the way,” Barnes said. “Gryffindor.” 

“Tony Stark,” Tony said. “Um… the house with the snake, I forget what it’s called.” 

“Oh, Slytherin,” Bucky said. “Cool. So, what is that thing?” 

“Arc-reactor,” Tony said. “It protects my heart. I made it.” 

“Protects your heart from what?” 

Tony shivered. “Avada Kadavra. It’s keeping the curse from killing me.” 

“ _Savage_!” Bucky said. “You made a magical artifact that deflects a killing curse? That’s totally rad. Why aren’t you in Ravenclaw?” 

Tony shrugged. The houses didn’t matter to him at all, except that he’d be wearing a green and silver scarf instead of the much more attractive red and gold. 

“Well, I’m in Gryffindor, but after You-Know-Who snuffed it, we’re supposed to be trying this whole inter-house-getting-along thing. If you don’t… we could be friends?”

Tony nodded. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s do that.”


End file.
